Miscommunication
by arianna99
Summary: An argument between Jack and Ianto. J/I, slash, spoilers, please review.


You can always tell when something's wrong at Torchwood, there are too few of them not to be able to

You could always tell when something was wrong at Torchwood, there were too few of them not to be able to. You knew Gwen'd fought with Rhys when she was fidgeting, sniffling a bit and you knew she was just waiting for someone to come and ask her what was wrong, so she could say, "Oh, it's nothing, just had a bit of a tiff, but thanks for asking," so she could feel cared about. You knew when Owen'd pissed Tosh off again by the sudden productivity from her end and the louder-than-usual music in the autopsy bay.

And everyone always knew when Jack and Ianto fought. Not because they were conspicuous about it, mind. Rather the opposite. Because both of them made a concerted effort to keep it completely out of Torchwood. It was ludicrous, really. They couldn't keep their relationship out of Torchwood anymore than they could keep themselves out of Torchwood, but they tried so hard not to inconvenience anyone no one had the heart to tell them it was pointless.

Ianto would hand out coffee like normal, Jack would give orders as normal, and if Ianto didn't meet Jack's eyes, if Jack asked for Gwen's local expertise instead of his, if Ianto kept his opinions to himself, if Jack hid in his office and Ianto invented an emergency in M-O and vanished into the archives, well, that was none of their business.

Only sometimes, it kind of is, when it went on for a week, when the Hub was full of strained silences and fake smiles.

And that's when Owen walked up to Jack and said, "Fix it."

"Am I missing a conversation here?"

"Yes, very witty, shut up and fix it."

Jack's expression had gone from blandly confused to outright challenging. "Fix what?"

"Whatever you did to annoy teaboy. Put it right."

"What makes you think it wasn't him?"

Owen gave him a look.

"Yeah, okay. But how am I supposed to fix it if I don't know what I did wrong?"

"Might want to ask him, bright spark."

"I did. He said if I didn't know it wasn't worth talking about."

"Ah," Owen said, nodding sagely. "If Ianto was a woman and not quite so anal, I'd say there's flying crockery in your future."

"Thank you, Owen," Jack said dryly. "I can always count on you to cheer me up."

"I know you simply worship me for the ray of clear sunshine I bring into your humdrum life. Now fix it." With that, he was gone, leaving Jack to ponder in private.

That evening, he followed Ianto to the bar he'd seen him going to for the last few nights. Nothing secret or sneaky about it, Ianto saw him before he'd even gotten to the door.

"Tell me, Jack, does the right to privacy mean anything to you?" he asked, sounding more tiredly resigned than actually angry.

Jack shrugged. "Where I come from-"

"Yes, yes, where you come from, everything is magnificently different and we backwards apes are so far beneath you you can't possibly imagine fitting in even though you've lived here for a century and a half. What do you want, Jack?"

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Of course," Ianto sighed. "Silly me. What does Jack Harkness always want?" He sounded so much older than he was, bone tired and ancient.

"Look, Ianto, I know I don't make it easy for you, but I-"

"Yes, but you. It's always about you, isn't it, Jack?" Jack opened his mouth to answer, but stopped as Ianto practically shoved him up against the wall. "Know what?" Ianto growled against his lips, "I don't want to hear it." And then Ianto kissed him, hard and fierce, bodies pressed together so tight that Jack couldn't have remembered what he'd been saying even if Ianto had wanted to hear it.

Jack did sleep, perhaps more lightly than others, but he did, especially after engaging in any strenuous activity, because he was human after all was said and done. He just aged much more slowly.

He was still out for the count when the doorbell rang, but Ianto wasn't. He was wide awake, thinking things over. And when he said things, he meant Jack, because Jack was the only reason he lay awake at night, thinking.

He rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of boxers and padded to the door, yawning as it swung open.

Then did an almost comical double-take when he saw who was there. "Adrienne!" He said, and let her in. Her hair, the same thick dark, dark brown as his, was pulled back into a messy bun, and her makeup was a bit runny with tears. "What happened, baby?" He asked pulling her close in a hug.

"Ugh," She said into his shoulder, sounding upset and tired and disgusted. "I broke up with my boyfriend. 'S alright, really, just…didn't want to be alone."

"What about all your friends?"

"Home for Christmas."

"And why aren't you? You know what it'd mean to mum." He pushed the door closed and led her to the living room. She sat down on the sofa, sprawling out decadently (_like Jack, _but no, he wasn't going to think that).

"Yes, I know what it'd mean to her. I also know she'd be after me about a steady relationship leading to children, a golden retriever and doing missionary for all eternity, and that I'd go insane. 'S all well and good for you, you left early."

Ianto smiled ruefully. "But if we don't visit all she's got is Erin, and that's just bad influence. She has the kids and the dog."

Adrienne's head lolled back. "And whaddaya bet she hasn't even had the missionary in years?"

"Addy," Ianto said. "Watch it. She's still our sister."

"Yeah, yeah."

"So, tell me about this boyfriend."

"Hm…not so much boyfriend as…well, friends with benefits, but he's fallen in love, and I'm lonely."

"Maybe you wouldn't be if you did actually look for something a bit more serious."

She lifted her head to glare at him.

"I'm not talking picket fence, I'm talking someone to talk to and wake up next to."

She must have caught the hint of longing in his voice, because she smiled grimly. "Right pair we make. C'mere."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and cuddled into him, and he smiled, reminded of a shared adolescence and teenage angst.

That was, until she pulled back and regarded him through narrowed eyes. "You smell like sex."

"I- uh. Addy…" But it was too late, his cheeks were firing up bright red.

She grinned. "So go on, tell."

He was trying to think of something that didn't deteriorate into "I'm shagging my immortal, male, boss who comes from the future and never really tells me whether I'm a casual fuck or not", when he heard the toilet flush.

"Crap," he whispered.

Addy's eyebrows shot up. "I'm sorry, was I interrupting something?"

"Not really," Ianto mumbled, wishing desperately to somehow hide from this.

"Yan?" Jack drawled. "You coming back to bed."

And now his sister looked like all her Christmases had come early. "So, brother dear, something you're not telling me?"

"I could say the same," Jack said, leaning against the door to the living room, thankfully wearing underwear, at least.

Ianto swore under his breath. "Jack, this is my sister Adrienne. Addy, Captain Jack Harkness."

"'Captain'?" She sounded more than a little interested.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," he said, kissing her hand and winking.

"No way," Ianto said. "Both of you, stop it. Off limits. Jack, get out, I really don't want you around right now." He drew himself up to full height and glared at Jack.

Jack glared right back. "We're not finished."

Ianto glanced over to Addy, who was watching them avidly. Making an executive decision, he pushed Jack through to the kitchen. "I think we are," he hissed. "Unless you have anything else to say?"

"Maybe I would if you'd just tell me why you're pissed at me."

"Jack, I really don't need this right now. Please go." He couldn't meet Jack's eyes.

They were both silent for a while, both extremely aware of the way their bodies pressed together. "You never told me you had a sister," Jack said, finally.

"It says so in my file."

"You think I read that?"

Another pause. "Why didn't you tell me?"

And now Ianto's head snapped up. "Because you never bloody asked, that's why. We're not all like you, we don't all feel like telling stories about our misspent youths all day long just to annoy everyone else. And maybe if you'd thought of that, I wouldn't be pissed at you. Now get out."

Jack did as he was told this time, and was out the door in five minutes, coat billowing behind him. "If you're late tomorrow I'm coming over," he called over his shoulder.

Ianto slammed the door. "Fuck you, too."

Addy was waiting for him. "Domestics?"

"I wish."

"So tell me about him."

"Nuh-uh."

"If you don't, I'll tell mum you're sleeping with a man."

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me."

"Oh, alright, fine. He's…well. Jack. He's my boss, too…"

If anything, the tension was worse the next day, because Ianto wasn't even making the effort to look like he wasn't really mad at Jack. Gwen had tried, tentatively, to get him to talk, and had been doing alright until she reached, "You know, whenever I have a row with Rhys," at which point he lost it and stalked off to safety.

Tosh didn't bother, because her people skills were nonexistent and she wasn't even sure she wanted to know. She did take Ianto's side, knowing or not knowing, but that was just personal preference.

And Owen closed his eyes and wished for bloody patience.

He found Ianto in the archives, organizing something that was probably so organized it would scream if it got any more so, given how much time Ianto'd spent down here. "Go on then. What'd he do?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because it's driving us all insane, that's why. You're both moody and annoyed and hard to work with."

"Thank you, Owen. You always make me feel good about myself."

"Ianto. He needs you."

Ianto turned around to face him, and for the first time he saw the rings under Ianto's eyes, the hint of stubble, the hickey creeping up his neck. "Yeah, that's just bloody it, isn't it. He needs me to clean up his shit, to take care of him, to sit around twiddling my thumbs while he takes his sweet time deciding what to tell me, he needs me to bend over and beg and do god knows what else and does he care what I need? No. There's your answer. That's what he did. Now go away."

Owen did, but only to Jack's office, to make him watch the CCTV footage of that little conversation.

The captain's eyes were fixed on the screen, on Ianto, and if Owen ever really figured those two out, he didn't doubt he'd have to wash his brain out with bleach. "Will you fix it now?" He said, aiming for bored impatience.

"Take the girls out. You've got the afternoon off," Jack said, gaze never leaving the screen.

"Well what do you need?" He asked Ianto, coming up behind him in the archives.

Ianto muttered something that sounded like "Bloody Owen."

"Go on, tell me."

He still wouldn't look at Jack.

"Ianto. I want to do this right. Please trust me when I say I want to do the right thing by you. It's just that I don't know what the right thing is, and I won't until you tell me."

Finally, finally Ianto put down the documents and turned to look at Jack. "I need someone to care, just the tiniest bit, to ask me about things, for my opinion to matter. I need to be needed by someone for more than just sex and coffee, and I need for you to stop feeling the need to be larger than life when we're alone. I don't want the big brave public face, Jack, I want you."

In two steps, Jack was next to him, stroking his cheek, his hair. "Why didn't you say so? Of course I need you for more than that, you idiot. I told you I came back for you. And if I'm too used to not saying it, then you just need to kick me till I do. 'M out of practice and pretty old, after all."

Ianto smiled softly, tremulously, and their lips met for hardly more than a brush, a delicate, soft meeting of two people who perhaps understood each other just a little bit better.

Much later, when Ianto could safely say he felt very, very cared about, tangled up in the bedsheets and drowsily talking nonsense, Jack asked what he'd told Addy.

"That you're my boss and I'm shagging you."

"Really?"

"No. I was pissed off. I also told her you were a big prat and that I had no idea what I was doing. She'll probably stop by a few more times soon to make sure you're not screwing me over."

"Good." Jack said.

That got Ianto's attention. He propped himself up onto his elbow. "Good?"

"Yeah. I- I guess I'd like to meet her, and the rest of your family."

Ianto giggled. "I doubt it. To use her words, they're into golden retrievers and missionary."

Jack snorted, but kissed his shoulder and Ianto knew he did mean it. They settled into silence, and Ianto was just drifting off to the feel of Jack's arms around him when Jack said, "Ianto?" at little more than a low rumble, but, lying as he was against Jack's chest, Ianto felt him say it.

"Yeah?"

"Do you really think I tell stories about my misspent youth to annoy people?"


End file.
